The Strangereal War
by longherin
Summary: Let's mush as many of the timelines together as possible and see what happens. [Updated irregularly] (Caution: Language)
1. Stage 1 - Ocean Birds

_Disclaimer – All aircraft in this story uses a stripped down, not-realistic (but kinda sorta) weapons system. Every fighter can carry 4 missiles and 2 loads of special weapons (and 800 rounds of gun). For example, Mobius 1's F-4E would be allowed to carry 4 missiles and either 4 UGBLs or 2 UGBLs and 2 Napalms…or 4 Napalms, but Napalms are bad so he'd never do that. Special equipment (like drop tanks) also 'cost' 1 load of special weapons._

{ === + === }

[Sand Island, 1100]

On this clear, sunny day, the trainees on Sand Island prepared for their next training flight. For some, it was their first.

"Hey Blaze."

The young pilot of the name perks up.

"We got you a present."

 _Uh oh._ Blaze thinks and grins. "What's the occasion?"

"It's the 'you're a big boy now' promotion." Captain Bartlett, the bearer of bad news, replies with a laugh. "I got a passenger today, so you're on your own."

Blaze was the smallest nugget in the bunch…which simply meant that, of all of the pilots, he was simply the newest one to be added to the active roster of trainees getting air time. Given that Blaze had faced flying with what most would consider unusual enthusiasm, this was far from surprising.

Although Blaze cared more about what he was going to fly, he had a good guess, and thus elected to be well-mannered instead. "Who's the passenger? Edge?"

"Funny." Bartlett chuckles. Edge was a little bit more senior than Blaze and her worship of Bartlett was a bit of an open secret on the base. "Nah, it's some photo geek. Apparently he got permission to do a piece with the air force, and they sent him out here."

 _Some photo geek?_ Blaze repeats in his head. "Sounds like fun." He says, his tone indicating that it would be anything but.

"He'll just be doing some shots of us flying practice, and then he goes home." Another trainee pilot says. "Should be pretty routine. Are you sure he should be flying with you, sir?" He asks Bartlett.

"The man requested it himself." Bartlett shrugs. "Says it's important for his story."

"Wonder what kind of story it would be." Blaze jumps to his feet. "Ok, now what am I going up in, Captain?"

"Easy there, Blaze." The trainee laughs. "You're going to do your name justice if you keep this up."

"Really, Cactus?" Blaze grins. "We're gonna go there?"

"Ladies, ladies, you're both pretty." Bartlett says with the barest hint of a joke. "Now let's get Blaze's new dress picked out."

…

[Sand Island Tarmac, 1130]

…

Blaze was doing some routine checks (according to the little handbook he had) of his brand-new F-5E Tiger 2 before he was approached by the photographer in question.

"Excuse me, can I ask you some questions?" Blaze heard, and then turned around.

He started. "Oh, you're…Genette, right?"

Albert Genette nods. "Yes, I am. It's a pleasure to meet you, mister…"

"Blaze." Blaze grins and extends a hand.

Genette takes it with an equally warm smile. He was familiar with pilots taking their TAC names and using it like their real names, and thus didn't question it further.

"I heard you're doing a piece on the Captain." Blaze stows his pocketbook away. "Is he that big outside the military?"

"Well, He's something of a cult hero." Genette nods. "So I thought it would be interesting to do a piece on him, and especially on his callsign."

"Heartbreak." Blaze laughs. "Man oh man I'd love to know the story behind that."

"Speaking of callsigns, how did you get yours?" Genette asks curiously.

Blaze shuffles his feet. "I may be just a _little_ bit insistent when we do target practice."

"A little." Another trainee (by the name of Baker) overheard. "A _little_?!"

"Fine, a lot." Blaze roll his eyes. "It's not that big of a difference."

"Much as how carpet bombing is not that different from watering a garden, yes." Yet another trainee (Svenson) laughs. "Don't get too close to Blaze, Genette. He's the type to tell his squadron to free engage just so he can get all the kills."

"Assuming he'll ever become a leader in the first place." Baker winks.

"You guys are assholes." Blaze rolls his eyes. "Though I agree with you on the 'leader' part."

Genette looked suitably confused. "Um…"

"They're just playing with you." Cactus claps Genette on the back. "Blaze, for all the shit we give him, has a good head on his neck."

"Unlike you, Cactus." Svenson happily seizes the moment.

"Cactus?" Genette was curious again.

"Because he flies as if everyone around him is after him." Baker nods sagely. "It's quite smart, really…pity he can't really back it up."

"Shove off." Cactus grumbles. "I'm going up in a Hawk today, what about you guys?"

"Tiger Es for the both of us." Baker replies.

"Lucky. So we have…what, six Es, four Bs, four Hawks, and Bartlett's F4?" Cactus ticks off on his hand. "This is a pretty big group."

"Sand Island's getting a lot of trainees…don't blame 'em. It's a pretty place." Svenson nods. "Better here than Heierark, anyway."

 _The F-5B is the two-seater trainer variant of the F-5._

Genette knew Heierark Air Force Base as a location not well beloved by its staff, new or old. It was, to put it politely, unwelcomingly cold.

"Heierark's a low bar to set, though." Baker points out. "I mean, I can ditch my aircraft in the ocean and be in a better place than Heierark."

"Except if you go down in the Razgriz Straits." Blaze counters him.

"Except that." Baker nods. "That would be bad."

"You guys believe that, huh?" Genette couldn't help but comment.

"It's not that we 'believe' in it or anything." Cactus corrects him. "But if the demon does exist, then showing up on his front yard with a busted gift would be a horrible way to make an impression."

The voice of one of the other instructors made all of them jump. "If you guys are done being busy over there I'd like to see those aircraft on the tarmac before next year rolls around."

"I blame you for whatever happens after this." Svenson declares before leaving for his F-5E.

"What did I do?!" Blaze demands.

…

[1200, Skies around Sand Island]

…

"You're late, kids."

"Blaze did it." Svenson replies immediately. "He takes full responsibility."

"The hell I do." Blaze snaps. "The captain's behind us, though."

"And whose fault is that?" The instructor groans.

"His." Svenson and Blaze accused each other simultaneously.

"The boys don't get along at all, do they?" Barlett laughs over the radio as his F-4G Wild Weasel arrived on scene.

"No they don't, darlin'." The instructor replies, playing along.

Bartlett goes into business mode. "Alright, boys and girls, let's take this nice and easy today. Sverson, Baker, Edge, you're with me. Everyone else, split into your groups and conduct the exercises as outlined in your briefing. Understood?"

Every trainee obediently clicked their radios in acknowledgement.

"Alright, get to it." Bartlett then switches to a private channel. "How do you like your first flight, Mister Genette?"

"Uh…" Genette was just a touch overwhelmed. Captain Bartlett had pulled a few slightly unnecessary maneuvers between takeoff and rendezvous. "Your flying is quite something, Captain." He finally said. "What do you plan to do with your squadron of trainees?"

"Oh, that's an easy one." He flips to the public channel again. "Alright, the three of you, begin combat maneuvers. Free drinks to anyone that can get a lock on me before we're past half fuel."

"Ah." Was Genette's only response.

"They get it easy today, because I have you on board." Bartlett laughs. "Hope you didn't eat lunch."

Genette was fortunate that he didn't…especially after the captain's maneuvers made him queasy.

…

[1205, Skies Over the Ocean]

…

Three flights of planes cruised at 1500 feet above the water surface heading towards Sand Island.

The three flights were: one flight of four Mig-29 Fulcrums, one flight of two Su-24M Fencers, and one flight of…

"I see you Mercenaries don't have the money for a full squad of planes." The pilot of one of the Fulcrums (the commander of the operation) said a little bit disdainfully.

"We value our combat effectiveness over squadron formalities." The lead of the mercenary squadron said in aircraft, the F/A-18A Hornet, was adorned in a dark blue hue with a line of white predatory teeth. "This is a mission requiring differing skills, and we intend to make good on our contract."

"Yeah, you tell him, captain." The pilot of a similarly colored Tornado GR.1 egged on. "We're professionals."

"So I see." The Fulcrum captain said, clearly not believing it. "What about the Fencers?"

The captain in the Hornet didn't sound like he cared. "They're newcomers to our company, and we're giving them those aircraft to help assist with this operation."

"Ha." The Fulcrum captain said tonelessly. "I hope they're up to scratch."

"Hey." A blue-and-teethed Mirage 2000 rolled around to follow after the Fencers. "Don't talk about our newbies like that." Its pilot growled. "They're skilled, y'know!"

"I'll know it when I see it." The Fulcrum captain said. And then, to dissuade any further discussion on the matter, "All units, we're approaching the operational airspace. Be aware of your roles and fulfill your duties to Yuktobania like the patriots you are. Mercenaries…earn your keep."

"Earn our keep, he says." The pilot of the last blue-and-teethed aircraft, a Su-27 Flanker, seethes. "He should at least treat us with the respect our paycheck deserves."

"Tolya's right, boss." The Mirage's pilot says. "They can't talk to us like that!"

"They can talk however they please." The flight lead, Milosz Sulejmani, said regally. "We just have to do our duties. Antares, do you copy?"

"Antares copies, Rigel one." The lead Fencer replied. "State your situation."

 _I really don't like military, ex or otherwise._ Sulejmani thought. "Are you ready for the mission?"

"Antares squadron is ready to engage." Antares One replies idly. "Two?"

"PJ here, I read." Antares Two replies cheerily. "Let's do a good job and go home, alright?"

"You're really cheerful about all of this, PJ." The Tornado's pilot muttered.

PJ laughs. "Well Oruma, I like flying and I like working, so it's like a dream come true!"

"Let that get to your head and you'll end up dead." Tolya Kiriakov (The Flanker's pilot) reminds him.

"I remember, Tolya. Thanks." PJ good naturedly says.

"Enough chatter, we're going in." The Mig captain snaps. "Keep your pace!"

…

[1211]

…

"Captain Bartlett, we have a problem."

Bartlett was having fun running circles around the theoretically more agile Tigers and was not exactly pleased with the Sand Island radars disrupting him. On the other hand… "What's the problem, Sand Island?"

"We're detecting ten incoming bogeys split into two groups." The radar operator said. "One high, one low, and both estimated to pass near Sand Island's final line of defense."

"That doesn't sound good." Bartlett issued a general stop to his squadron, and they were now busy reforming (with no small amount of confusion). "Size?"

"Four on the first, Six on the second." Radar replies. "First group at 25 North, 2000 feet, second group, 30 North, 15000." Brief pause. "The base commander has given permission to engage if they happen to be bandits. Wardog, you're cleared to investigate and intercept."

"Wardog copies." Bartlett replies and makes a face.

"Sir?" Genette asks with fear in his voice.

"Sorry, Genette. Looks like it's going to be a bit dicer than we expected today." Bartlett apologizes then flips the radio. "Wardog squadron, we have company."

Predictably the news did not have a pleasant reception, especially less so after Bartlett explained exactly what they were after.

"Sverson, Baker, Edge. You three with me, we'll check out the incoming squadron at 2000." Bartlett said. "Focus on evasive flying; we've all only got our guns and normal missiles."

"Is our goal to engage these aircraft so they'll give up and go home?" Edge asks.

"Something like that." Bartlett replies with a sigh. "Of all the days…don't do anything stupid, kids, or it could be your necks on the chopping block. The rest of you, follow the two instructors and descend to 1500 feet and return to base."

"We're all armed too." Blaze felt the need to point out.

"With what?" Bartlett asks, exasperated. "You guys have your guns and that's it. I just said 'don't do anything stupid'. Follow your orders and return to base."

Blaze, though intent on entering combat, saw the wisdom in avoiding an engagement with planes definitely better armed than he was. "Yes sir."

The Sand Island squadron split into two, with the stronger Tiger squadron climbing to meet the first batch of bogeys, and the second trainee squadron descending to run straight home.

…

"Whoa, whoa." Daniel Oruma exclaims. "Look at this. Their flight split in two."

"And the bigger one is coming straight for us." Gaviria agrees. "What should we do, boss?"

"Fighters, engage the incoming enemy flight. Attackers, stay on your mission." Sulejmani commands. "This is a training base. Don't let them stop us."

…

[Top Flight]

…

"Tally ho." Bartlett says upon seeing his targets. "Four Fulcrums at two o'clock high."

"I see them." Baker acknowledges and gulps. "What if they really start shooting at us?"

"Then we'll just have to fight." Edge replies coolly, masterfully masking her own unease. "Your orders, captain?"

Captain Bartlett takes the precious few seconds to think. "If we move into close range then Svenson's with me. All aircraft, you're cleared to shoot." Bartlett finally declares. "Take them out."

…

"We're spiked!" A Fulcrum pilot shouts.

"All aircraft break!" The Fulcrum Captain commands. "Counterattack!"

…

The allied flight has a small vertical distance difference to cover, but the two groups had come into range of the shorter range AA missiles used by literally every aircraft in Strangereal, with some minor differences.

"Fox two! Fox two!" Bartlett declares as his flight launches four missiles, one each.

 _Osean missiles are the 'standard' missiles that all others are compared to._

"Fox two!" The Fulcrum Captain unknowingly echoed.

 _Yuktobanian missiles take longer to lock but are a little more accurate._

The two flights, upon firing their missiles, broke and scattered away from the missiles they knew were coming.

Captain Bartlett finished his evasion first and turned back around to search for enemies. "Genette! If you see something give me a shout!"

Genette had squeezed his eye shut and thus did not think to answer.

"Well, there's one right there." Bartlett sights one of the Fulcrums turning to engage a Tiger. "Check your tails, kids!"

"Ah, shit!" Baker replies. "He's turning on me!" He began to jink.

Bartlett watched Baker's Tiger move erratically. _Kid must be panicking._ He thought grimly. _You don't jink at that distance._ He moved to lock onto the Fulcrum. "Baker! Dive!"

The Fulcrum pilot ignored the radar warning in his ear to focus on the F-5 in front of him entering into a sloppy dive. "Curse your own luck." He says simply and follows the Tiger down.

"He's on me!" Baker exclaims in fear as the radar lock siren blared in his cockpit. "Help!"

"Turn! Hard right!" Bartlett ordered.

Baker banked and turned right, but the turn was neither fast or sharp enough to foil the Fulcrum on his tail.

"Fox Two!" The Fulcrum pilot fired. Almost immediately he heard his missile warning go off as well due to Bartlett gaining a lock.

The Fulcrum, already maneuvering to follow Baker, simply extended his maneuvering and kept turning hard right. Baker, finally gaining the mental strength to take that high-g turn, did so far too late.

Both missiles found their mark and exploded.

"Damn." Bartlett spared a glance at the fireball that was now Baker's F-5 before refocusing back onto his Fulcrum. "You got a lot of balls, coming after nuggets like this."

"This is Iron 3, my fuselage is damaged." The Fulcrum pilot announced. "I've got a fighter on my tail."

"Iron 1, copy; will engage. Be advised I'm leaving a Tiger free."

The Fulcrum captain turned away from the Tiger he was toying with to back up his wingman.

"Holy." Sverson gulps and suddenly realizes he had been crying. "Holy shit. I'm alive?"

His Tiger had multiple holes in its wings and body, and fuel was already leaking out.

"I need help." Edge calls through gritted teeth, being chased by two of the remaining Fulcrums. "Anybody?"

One of the Fulcrums fire a missile and she instantly inverts and dives.

"That one has some good senses." One of her chasers complements. "Four, take care of the one the captain left."

"Roger that." Iron 4 acknowledges. "I don't like doing cleanup work, though."

He was suddenly brought to attention by the missile lock in his ears and immediately turned hard left.

"Dammit." Svenson gasps.

"Whew." Iron 4 breathes out and re-engages. "Ok, you've got bigger balls than I thought."

Meanwhile, Edge pulled out of her dive barely above the ocean surface, with the Fulcrum behind her lazily chasing.

 _He has the advantage of height._ Edge scowls. "Svenson, bring yours around. I'll take care of it."

Svenson's response was garbled.

"Svenson?" Edge asks again, forcing herself to ignore the radar warning. Her eyes scanned the sky to see Svenson's aircraft trailing smoke—Iron 4 had fired at it randomly with its guns, and one of the bullets hit the fuselage and damaged the electronics equipment. The plane itself, mercifully, was still flying…though judging by its condition it wasn't about to stay in the air for much longer.

"Keep yourselves alive, kids!" Edge heard Bartlett say. "I'll be there in a minute."

Iron 1 had engaged Captain Bartlett and his comparatively inferior aircraft and had found himself immediately outmatched after three maneuvers.

"I just need to mop up this one first." Bartlett homed in on his target attempting to evade through a high g-turn and depressed the trigger.

"Jeez!" Iron 1 exclaims when he felt a bullet plink harmlessly off of his tail and made the grievous error of easing his turn to avoid further perforations by bullet. The error was then accompanied by the sharp trill of the missile lock, forcing Iron 1 to invert and dive straight into a trail of bullets in the aircraft's body.

Bartlett didn't bother to watch the Fulcrum lose control in its dive and eat the missile into its engines, instead opting to search for Svenson's plane, since it seemed to be having greater trouble.

But the fighter was nowhere to be seen.

"Edge, where's Svenson?" Bartlett demanded as he moved to assist Edge instead.

"He bailed out." Edge replies through the g-forces acting on her body. "His aircraft was in too bad a shape."

"Yeah, I see him." Bartlett said after confirming a parachute in the water. "We'll get Sand Island to fetch him later. Edge, state status."

"I've taken a few hits." Edge replies while trying to throw off the Fulcrum behind her. "But I'm still airborne."

"Good. Keep it up, I'm comin'." Bartlett homed in on the Fulcrum chasing after the Tiger far out on his scope.

The Fulcrum, getting more and more frustrated as Edge just barely avoided his missile lock (and certainly getting more distracted as the rest of the flight, who were never very verbose in the first place, fell even more silent) didn't notice Bartlett's Wild Weasel on his flank until the missile alert rang in his ear.

With the sudden missile warning, the Fulcrum hurriedly broke off its chase and turned towards Bartlett in hopes of foiling the less capable Osean missile.

"He's got good senses." Bartlett complements as his missile loses its lock. "Still a little green, though."

That last statement was due to Edge. Now that the Fulcrum turned away from her tail, Edge had wheeled right around to follow after said Fulcrum.

Thus, it was with great surprise that the Fulcrum's pilot continued to hear the missile warning in his ear. Believing that the missile from Bartlett was still on his tail, he followed his evasive turn against Bartlett with a sharp dive that brought him level against the ocean surface. The dive was not useful against a missile trailing behind him.

Edge's missile slammed into the Fulcrum's fuselage dead center, and the fighter scattered itself over a wide area, with each piece plummeting into the ocean in short order.

"Good shot, Edge." Bartlett says with a smile. "That's one for the history books."

"Thank you, Captain." Edge said while masking her heavy breathing. "Looks like that's all of them."

"Good riddance." He then switched to a general frequency. "Bartlett here, the first group's done. Where's the second one?"

"Captain!" One of the trainers yelled frantically. "We're engaged with the second squad!"

 _What?_ Bartlett turned towards Sand Island with Edge on his wing. "What do you mean? They came down to get you?"

"They were here in the first place!" Cactus yelled. "Blaze is fighting them!"

"That trigger-happy idiot." Bartlett growled. "Get yourselves back to the base right now! Edge, we're going in!"

Edge steeled herself. "Roger!"

…

[A little bit earlier]

…

When Bartlett's group left to fight the Fulcrums, the trainee group dropped low and aimed themselves back to Sand Island.

"Bit of a pity we can't see the Captain fight." Cactus tried to say lightly, though his voice quivered. "We could've learned firsthand."

"Yeah." Blaze played along. "Baker's not going to quit talking about it when he gets back, though, so we'll hear all about it just like we were there."

That earned some nervous chuckles (off radio) from the rest of the squadron.

The flight continued in silence for the next minute, until one of the made the unfortunate (or quite fortunate) glance to his left.

"Are they done already?" He said in surprise. "Hey guys, our ten o'clock."

Blaze followed the path. "Those don't look like Tigers." He said slowly.

"…So…" Cactus hoped that, if he said it slower, it wouldn't be true. "Those are the enemy's second wing?"

"...Sand Island, didn't you say the second enemy flight was at 15000 feet?" One of the instructors radioed.

"Sand Island here, that's correct. What's the problem?"

"They're at 1500, you moron." The Instructor snaps. "Full afterburners, we're going back to the island right now!"

…

"Whoa, guys." PJ said suddenly. "There's a group at our five o'clock."

"Our Fulcrums must be fast if they could be there." Oruma notes. "Must be the baddies. What do you want us to do, boss?"

Sulejmani's order was immediate. "Attackers, continue your flight plan. Tolya, we'll intercept the enemy flight."

Kiriakov grins. "You got it, captain." He turns to face the incoming squadron. "The angle isn't too good, though."

"It doesn't matter." Sulejmani replies. "I'll take the top four, you get the bottom three."

"Ok, captain." Kiriakov activates his XMAA. "Painting targets."

…

Upon hearing the lock warning in his ear, Cactus panicked. "Oh hell, we're spiked! They're bandits!"

…

"Fox three!" Kiriakov declares.

"Fox three." Sulejmani says calmly.

The seven missiles streaks towards the Trainee Squadron.

"Oh shit! Oh shit!" Cactus very eloquently expresses his panic as the lock warning turned into a missile warning. "Where's it coming from?!"

"Probably from the bandits." Blaze can't help but say. "Turn and burn, throw them off!"

Of the seven units, three of the trainees made the fatal mistake of attempting to outrun the missile (by flying along the same axis, no less). The rest banked and fled every which way to dodge as much of the incoming fire as possible.

Of the seven missiles, four and a half found their marks.

Blaze watched as a Tiger and two Hawks went down in flames, though their pilots ejected well before the missiles struck. "Damn. Cactus, you ok?"

"I still have control." Cactus managed to say despite his sobbing.

Blaze's attention was then drawn by one of the Instructor's F-5B falling with its engine on fire. He visually followed it down until he confirmed the singular ejection of the trainee.

"Heads up, two of the enemy fighters are closing in." The remaining instructor warns. "All aircraft return to base, I'll handle him here." He turns his F-5B to face the incoming Hornet and Flanker.

"He has no missiles." Sulejmani notes. "Ignore him and go after the rest of the planes."

"Don't need to tell me twice." Kiriakov grins and targets the F-5B.

The F-5B maintained his attacking course despite hearing the lock alert, so intent was the instructor on preserving the rest of the squadron.

"Whoa, we got ourselves a hero." Kiriakov laughs. "Too bad for you our bonus is based on quantity."

The Flanker and Hornet reached and blew past the F-5B at speed, causing the F-5B to shake and temporarily lose control.

"They're coming right for us!" Cactus wails on the general frequency, making everyone wince as their radios crackled.

"It doesn't look like we can get away at this point." Blaze growls.

"We can get away if we go on full afterburners." One of the other trainees point out.

"How do you plan to land at that speed then?" Blaze counters. "Besides, that Flanker will be on your ass the entire way."

"Like Bartlett Said, all we got are our guns, Blaze." Another trainee reminds him. "I don't think a fight's going to end well for us."

"I'd rather go down fighting." Blaze turns his aircraft to meet the two oncoming Rigel Squadron members. "Let's do this!"

"Like I said, I don't care much for heroes." Kiriakov grins at seeing the closest F-5E turn to face him. "So you get to be ignored. Lucky you." He arms his last two XMAAs and guides them to the two remaining Hawks.

Sulejmani then fells a slight chill down his spine. "Tolya, that Tiger's going to be trouble." He says. "Don't get complacent."

"Really now?" Kiriakov spares a glance at the incoming Tiger as his missiles locked. "Fox thr—whoa!" He rolled suddenly to avoid a streak of bullets flying very close to his cockpit. "How did he get here so fast?!"

Blaze followed Kiriakov's roll with his gun, and the Flanker soon felt a few hits on its belly.

Sulejmani locked onto Blaze. "It's best to be rid of the troublemakers early." He declares. "Rigel 4, focus on this Tiger for now."

"You sure about that, boss?" Kiriakov was angry that his plane got hit, but felt like going after the other targets were more important.

"If they land back at their base, Rigel 2 and 3 can bounce them as they land." Sulejmani replies indifferently. "We'll take care of their rising star."

"Understood." Kiriakov makes a wide turn to fall behind Sulejmani.

"Damn, so much for the sneak attack." Blaze fells the Hornet on his tail as he attempts to outmaneuver said aircraft. "Now what?"

"You're brave, Blaze." The remaining instructor sighs. "But stupid. Hold on, I'm coming."

 _If I don't fight them to the limit, I'm not going to make it._ Blaze reminds himself. "Take your time, captain." He says and makes a tight high-g turn roll and turn.

"Not bad." Sulejmani willingly overshoots Blaze's Tiger to take a leisurely turn.

"But not good enough." Kiriakov takes Sulejmani's position as Blaze's tail and arms a normal missile.

Blaze comes out of his roll and Kiriakov fires his missile, forcing Blaze to dive and turn hard. His turn took him down to 400 feet and threw the missile off into the ocean.

"Ain't that a shame." Kiriakov grins as he puts Blaze's underbelly in his gunsight and depressed the trigger.

To his surprise, Blaze rolls and banks almost at the exact moment his guns started firing, causing the shots to sail harmlessly into the ocean.

Kiriakov pulls up from his dive at the same time Blaze pulled up as well. He summarized his feelings with a very apt "Damn!"

Blaze's immense loss of energy due the previous evasive actions allowed Kiriakov to overshoot right into his gunsight.

"You're getting sloppy, Rigel 4." Sulejmani sighs as he arms his own missile. "Fox Two."

Blaze, now hounded by another missile, only managed to fire a few rounds at the underbelly of the Flanker. While the shots achieved superficial damage at best (Kiriakov certainly wasn't about to just sit there and take the hits) he did manage to nick the head of one of the two remaining XMAAs.

"Damn, that's money down the drain." Kiriakov jettisons the damaged XMAA even as it started reporting false positives. "I'll extract that amount from your blood."

"Easy, Rigel 4." Sulejmani soothes his wingman as he arms and locks another missile. "The Tiger's about to pull up, take him out then."

Sulejmani had predicted according to his experience that Blaze had two viable options on the table. He could continue to dogfight at the current altitude and burn his fuel faster than his enemies, or he could climb and continue the dogfight at a higher altitude to give himself more breathing room.

Blaze, however, was now in a state of hyper focus, and didn't factor the length of combat into his considerations. Instead, he was keenly aware of the Hornet on his tail locking onto him and opted to climb.

"As expected." Sulejmani sneers and releases his missile.

To his surprise, Blaze pulled up into an almost vertical climb while definitely not having the airspeed to do so.

 _Cobra? In a Tiger?_ Sulejmani rolls his eyes. _It's not a move you can pull off with whatever aircraft you want, trainee._

All Osean trainee aircraft, by regulation, had to go into the air with at least two things: gun ammunition, and one load of flares.

Blaze now released that load of flares while flipping into what is quite possibly the laziest Kulbit in the history of jet aviation.

"What?!" Sulejmani, shocked at the irregularity of the maneuver, was a little slow in maneuvering to place the Tiger in his gunsight. However, Sulejmani realized that he would overshoot and thus engaged his afterburners, allowing himself to greatly overshoot the Tight and place him out of danger entirely.

Blaze's Tiger, now level with Sulejmani's aircraft, fired the last of his ammunition at the retreating Hornet (scoring no hits) before his Tiger's engines stalled. He barely recovered his aircraft at a mere 9 feet off of the ocean surface, and was able to pull up to a safer height before his first glorious dogfight was ended by a slightly higher than normal ocean wave.

"Captain, are you alright?" Kiriakov asks as he watched the Tiger climb up some more.

"I'm fine; his tactic was unorthodox but certainly worthy of praise." Sulejmani replies with poise.

"It looks like he's out of rounds; he's not aligning for a gun kill anymore." Kiriakov notes. "Should we focus on the rest of the fighters?"

Sulejmani checked his radar. The rest of the trainee flight was quite far away. "Negative. We'll use this one for training."

Kiriakov laughs. "Your bad habits are kicking in again, captain. Not that I mind."

…

[Sand Island]

…

"We have to do WHAT?!"

The Adjutant base commander Allen Hamilton glared at the loudmouthed trainee. "The rest of the aircraft is making a straight run at this base. We're going to deploy and intercept them."

"We?" Chopper gestured to himself and Grimm. "We're barely cleared for flying here!"

"I realize that." Hamilton waves it off. "But this is a serious situation, and we need every available pilot we can get."

"Better us than the base, right?" Grimm gulps. "I'm with you, Captain."

"Good." Hamilton nods. "We have Falcons waiting for pilots. Get in."

Chopper was a little bit hopeful. "It's not gonna be just us two going up, right?"

Hamilton was unsure if Chopper was blind, as he (Hamilton) wore a flight suit. "Yes, yes you are." He said finally. "Now get changed immediately." He then left to jump into his own F-16C Block 60.

Grimm frowned. "Wait, did the Captain just crack a joke?"

"Guess it's more serious than I thought." Chopper groaned. "God I hope I locked my stuff before I came out here."

…

"Hey, looks like they still had more to throw at us." Gaviria says, noting the three new blips on his radar.

"Yeah, I've never heard of an airbase having a lot of aircraft." Oruma responds with a small smirky smile.

"Very funny." Gaviria rolls his eyes. "Hey, mercs. What do you guys want to do about this?"

"We'll make our strike against the enemy airfields and then engage their interceptors." Antares replies. "The Rigel flight is free to do as it pleases."

"In other words, you don't care about us." Oruma sighs. "Alright then, we'll hit their hangars and then support your air to air effort."

"I'll pass on that." Gaviria says with a shake of his head. "My baby's too heavy for dogfighting."

"Who's fault is that?" Oruma wonders idly. "You better start accelerating now, Faryd, or you'll never reach the base in time."

"Ah, be quiet." Gaviria chuckles. "We're heavy because we're good at air-to-ground ops."

"Hey, air to ground is my thing, too." Oruma reminds him.

"Why do you guys like hitting ground targets?" PJ asks. "Hitting things that can't run isn't a lot of fun."

"As long as we're paid for it, it doesn't matter." Antares replies calmly.

PJ shrugs. "Well, I can see that…I guess I like the flying more than the money."

Oruma hears the lock warning in his ear. "Looks like they're starting."

"Good, I was starting to get bored." PJ stretches in what little cockpit room he had.

…

"Targets locked." Hamilton announces. "Fox three!"

His four XMAA missiles streaked after their targets and scattered in different directions.

"Great, pilots that aren't stupid." Chopper's joke was quite hollow. "Just what I wanted."

"They're going after the base." Hamilton says. "When we're through, turn and engage with your long range missiles."

"Yes, sir." Grimm replies shakily. "They're quite close to the base. Can we intercept them on time?"

"If you intend to save the base, you better make sure you do it on time, Archer." Hamilton snaps.

"Yes, sir!"

The three Sand Island aircraft and the four mercenary aircraft pass each other (with the XMAAs sailing happily into the sunset, never to be seen again). Upon passing, the Sand Island Falcons make the sharpest turns they can.

Unfortunately, every last one of the attacker aircraft were in afterburner dives, and thus were quite difficult to catch.

"Ok…locking on." Chopper mutters, going through the checklist. "Arms the XMAAs…sight the targets…firing!"

His four XMAAs were launched after the Attackers, but the Attackers were rapidly reaching attack range.

"The window for our attack is so small!" Grimm comments.

"Incoming!" One of the Sand Island base staff warns as Gaviria's Tornado reached striking range.

Sand Island, by virtue of its status as a training base and its peacetime staff, did not have anti-air defenses normally. The base defense was thus slow in getting their equipment in place to intercept.

Thus, Gaviria faced highly sporadic fire from the ground as he lined up the base's barracks and lightly reinforced structures to his bomblet dispenser markers.

"Look out below!" He yelled and dropped his payload.

The bomblets scattered and struck the base, bringing down many of the buildings and setting many others ablaze. Fortunately, due to Gaviria's high passing speed, quite a few of his bombs exploded on the ground with relatively little results.

However, before the ground crew had time to react, Oruma's Mirage arrived on scene.

"Sorry, but it's the job." He said under his breath and armed his XAGMs. He aimed them at the reinforced hangars and fired.

The missiles penetrated said Hangars and struck at the fighters stored inside, turning each hangar into a fireball.

"Good hits, Rigel squadron." Antares commended.

He and PJ came in last (just to see if any fighter would dare taxi onto the runway). Both fighters armed their four Guided Penetration Bombs and dropped them all along the Sand Island Runways, rendering them all useless.

"Alright, first pass is good." Gaviria laughs. "I still have more, so I'm coming in for seconds!"

"Same here." Oruma says. "What about you guys, Antares?"

"We've hit our target." Antares said simply. "We'll engage the enemy fighters."

…

"Jesus." Chopper breathed as his flight finally caught up with the Attacker flight. "They hit us hard."

"Look at those runways." Archer added. "We won't be able to land here after we're done."

"Focus on the enemy fighters, or we won't be landing at all." Hamilton rebukes him. "Looks like their Tornado and Mirage have more bombs. The two of you take down those two. I'll go after the Fencers."

"Roger." Chopper gulps. "Ok…Grimm? I'm counting on you."

"Ok, Chopper." Grimm takes a deep breath. "I don't know how much help I'll be, though."

…

"Looks like two of them are coming up to fight." Oruma remarks as his Mirage finishes its massive loop in the sky to set up for its second attack run. "You wanna take them, Faryd?"

"Nah, look at 'em." Gaviria dismisses the idea. "They're barely keeping those things flying as it is. We'll just do a hit and run and keep going."

"I thought you might say that." Oruma's tone might as well have shrugged.

…

"We're spiked!" Archer warns as his lock warning goes off.

"Well, so are they." Chopper's adrenaline was starting to override his fear. "Let's play some chicken with these suckers."

…

"Hey, these guys have balls." Gaviria laughs as his lock warning goes off as well. "They're actually trying to take us on!"

"From that position, no less." Oruma sighs. "Not smart." His weapons system the reports a lock. "Fox Two!"

On the other side, Chopper has gained locks as well. "Fox two!"

Both sides fired two missiles (one for each aircraft).

The set of missiles aimed at the Sand Island Flight were tricked by the flares the two planes dropped. However, the proximity of the detonation meant that the two F-16Cs, while still airborne, were now trailing smoke from their engines.

The set of missiles aimed at the Rigel Squadron Flight would have landed hits had the targeted planes flown straight into them. Since the Tornado and Mirage did not do such a thing, the missiles sailed off into the sky without much of a chance.

That being said, by forcing those two planes to evade, their attack paths were disturbed. Gaviria's Tornado had originally intended to use its remaining two Large Unguided Bombs on the main command structure (especially the tower), and Oruma's Mirage had its remaining set of XAGMs aimed at the softer hangars of the base.

Gaviria's new attack path caused him to miss his approach on the tower entirely. Oruma's new attack approach only let him fire at two of the four targets.

"Wow, that's annoying." Oruma grumbles. "I'm turning around for another pass."

"Don't get too cocky, Oruma." Gaviria warns him. "Those Falcons aren't going to be much slower this time."

"I know, Faryd." Oruma turns his head to see the Falcons turning around to reengage.

"Grimm! We'll take the Tornado first!" Chopper yells due to his adrenaline rush. "We can't let him bomb the HQ!"

"I got it!" Archer, though his ears were ringing, was also quite adrenalized.

"Their flying just got better." Gaviria notes. "They're not just your average trainees, I take it."

…

Meanwhile, Hamilton's F-16C (Block 60) had closed in with the turning Fencers and was within missile range.

"A Scorpion?" Hamilton notes as he sees the tail of the aircraft. "Mercenaries?"

"By his flying, he's no novice." Antares analyzes. "Two, back me up."

"You got it, One." PJ replies seriously.

The two lead aircraft lock onto each other with their normal missiles at the same time and launch against each other.

Hamilton turns away from the missile going after him, losing it by the skin of his neck.

Antares homed in directly to his missile and blew it out of the sky.

"Oh shit." Hamilton gulps as Antares finishes his interception movement and rolled onto his tail. "This guy's good."

Hamilton leads Antares's Fencer out into the ocean before attempting a hard brake and turn.

Antares punished the maneuver by dumbfiring a missile (without letting it lock) into Hamilton's flight path. The missile's homing system registered on Hamilton's warning system for a brief half second.

That half second surprised Hamilton and he adjusted his turn downwards.

Antares had placed quite a few bullets in that area and they greeted his entrance.

"Damn." Hamilton felt his aircraft shake. "What's a guy like this doing as a mercenary?"

PJ whistles. "Whoa. Your flying's as good as ever, Antares."

Hamilton finished his turn and zipped past Antares's Fencer, which was still in high-speed mode (with its variable geometry wings swept) and was thus a bit less maneuverable.

"PJ, he's getting away." Antares orders while decelerating into his turn.

"I see him." PJ locks onto Hamilton's aircraft and fires a normal missile.

Hamilton's counter was an almost complete barrel roll with a severely tightened turn, allowing him to nearly throw off the missile (it detonated and scratched his tail) and get on PJ's tail at the same time.

"Ok, I got sloppy." PJ admits to himself while pulling up.

Hamilton took this brief moment to perforate the hell out of PJ's left wing, breaking off when he received another lock warning from Antares.

"PJ, state your status." Antares says calmly as he sticks onto Hamilton's tail.

"Left wing is badly damaged." PJ replies, also calmly (though much more forced). "I can still make it home, though."

"Then go, I don't need you here." Antares commands.

"Right. Sorry." PJ disengages from combat and limps home. "I'm not much good as a wingman, am I?" He sighs to himself.

"Letting your wingman go home alone?" Hamilton wished he could go after the injured aircraft. "You're not a very responsible leader."

Though the two were not in direct communication, Antares had half-answered Hamilton. "If you even think of abandoning this fight to go after him, I will end you."

 _At this point, our maneuverability is about equal._ Hamilton calculates. _So as long as I can keep you busy, I win._

…

Chopper and Archer had arrived at the same conclusion.

 _Chopper was chasing Oruma, Archer Gaviria._

"Don't let up the pressure, Grimm!" Chopper eggs on his wingman. "We just need to burn their fuel and we win!"

"I'll try!" Grimm follows the Tornado through another deceptively sharp turn. "Gah! What's this guy's aircraft made of?!"

"These guys are getting better at sticking to our tails." Gaviria notes with a small amount of worry. "Oruma, can you clear him from my tail?"

"Sorry, I'm stuck here, too." Oruma replies apologetically. "If I let up for a second this guy will actually get me."

"These guys aren't just rookies, then." Gaviria seethes. "I'm going to set up for an attack. Just sprinkle some shots at this guy and we can call it a day."

Though Chopper had gotten good at sticking behind Oruma, he unfortunately did not improve fast enough to stop Oruma from firing his last two XAGMs. Fortunately, in a stroke of good luck the two struck hangars had contained F-16Cs, and both aircraft were currently in the air.

"Rigel 2, 3." Sulejmani's stern voice suddenly said over their radios. "What is the status of the mission?"

"We've hit almost all of our primary targets." Oruma reports. "Faryd still got a bomb left 'cuz he's being bugged, though."

"Oruma, I swear to god." Gaviria grumbles as the two of them hear the harrowing silence over the radio. "If you get the boss to murder us I will haunt you in your sleep."

"Very funny, Gaviria." Sulejmani's reply was quite frosty. "Disengage from combat and return to base."

"We still have fuel left." Gaviria felt the need to point out.

"Discard your remaining ordnance and disengage at full speed." Sulejmani repeats. "The enemy's waking up."

"Damn." Gaviria grumbles and purposefully takes a shallower turn than normal, allowing Grimm to lock onto him.

"Fox two!" Grimm immediately fires the missile despite the lock being barely secured, thus letting Gaviria maneuver and evade the missile.

"That's all she wrote for those two." Oruma sighs. "Antares, you guys ok? We're leaving the combat area."

Antares spared the downed Block 60 and the pilot's parachute one final glance. "Yeah, we're done here. Returning as advised."

…

With the relative skill difference, Chopper and Archer were quickly thrown off by Oruma and Gaviria. Feeling a bit dejected, they decided to do a circle of the base to assess damage.

"Jeez. They really worked us over." Chopper mutters, looking down at the base in flames. "Tower, do we have a casualty count?"

"We're at 50 and climbing." The tower operator replies tiredly. "They got the King, too."

"Perrault's dead?" Chopper groans. "I don't like the guy, but damn does this taste bad for me."

Grimm watches as a squad of Seahawk rescue helis get pulled out of undamaged hangars. "With our airfields busted, where do we go from here?"

"Not to mention we're out of missiles, too." Chopper adds.

The order was about what he expected. "Tower to Provisional Squadron, standby and maintain patrol route until the rest of the flight returns."

…

"Blaze!"

Blaze started, weakly aware that his plane was still airborne despite its multitudes of injuries.

"Blaze, can you hear me?"

 _Sounds like Cactus._ Blaze flipped his radio. "I hear you, Cactus. Is everybody ok?"

On Cactus's end, he heard about half of the sentence but had a good guess of the rest. "Yeah, we're all fine. You're a goddamn monster, Blaze. You saved all our asses, man."

Blaze laughs lightly, now more aware of his surroundings. "I'm just glad the two of them decided to use me for target practice. Hey Cactus?"

"Yeah?"

"Check my plane for me." Blaze pulled on the stick, noting his steady drop in altitude.

"Sure." Cactus drops down to alongside him. "Yikes, man. Are you sure you weren't hit anywhere?"

Blaze was now aware that his canopy had so many holes large sections were missing. "I don't think I'm bleeding anywhere." He moves his arms and legs just to check. "And my flight suit doesn't feel wet or anything."

"Because dear lord your aircraft's in bad shape." Cactus finishes with a light laugh. "You're gonna have to be the first to land, with your plane like that."

"If I can land at all." Blaze amends.

"I think Sand Island's sending helos to get our guys in the water." One of the other trainees said. "I also think we can't land there anymore."

There was a moment of silence.

"That means we've lost our runways." The remaining instructor realizes. "Damn. Might be good for you to ditch when you get near the island, Blaze."

"I'll keep that in mind." Blaze sighs, looks up, and notes the F-4G over his head. "How did I do, Captain?"

"You did damn good, kid." Captain Bartlett couldn't help but grin. "You did damn good."

Though Bartlett was able to enter the battle along with the remaining Instructor, due to the inherent plane performance differences the two of them were unable to dissuade Kiriakov and Sulejmani from hounding Blaze for any serious amounts of time. Edge had also attempted to engage but also due to skill differences she came nowhere close to keeping up.

Hell, the closest the Instructor got was to pepper Sulejmani's wing, and his reward for that was Kiriakov knocking out his left engine. Strangereal planes are built to be quite tough, though, and he stayed airborne, though after that he wasn't in any position to continue the fight.

"What I want to know now is why the hell those guys attacked us." Bartlett said next. "The only piece of land across the pond is Yuktobania, and I don't think I'm wrong to consider those guys friends."

"Your guess is as good as mine, Captain." The Instructor sighs. "But by the sounds of things they were all mercs, so it could just be some idiot trying to start another war."

"Well, if that's what he wanted, he succeeded." Bartlett growls. "No way in hell the top brass are gonna take this lying down."

…

The flight continued to trade theories on why the shooting had started until they returned to Sand Island, where Chopper and Archer were circling and waiting.

After their shock at the level of damage sustained by the base subsided, the flight realized that two sets of four fighters (along with an AWACS) were entering the airspace.

"This is AWACS Thunderhead. Sand Island, we heard you were having trouble and came as fast as we could."

"We appreciate the assistance, Thunderhead, but 'fast' wasn't fast enough." Sand Island Tower replied gravely. "This base won't be operational for a while."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"You and me both." The operator sighs. "Also, since our flight is currently unable to land, can you redirect them to another location? Our long range signaling equipment was damaged in combat."

"Understood." Thunderhead replied, and there was a pause as he worked. "We've made contact with the civilian airport at Bell City. They've agreed to let you land and will place all civilian traffic on hold when you arrive."

Chopper wished he was a bit better at directions. "Bell City…that's almost on the tip of Cape Landers, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it's a pretty nice place." Archer agrees. Bell City wasn't strategically important by any stretch of the imagination, and its proximity to Sand Island meant that, nine times out of ten, personnel on short term leave would take vacations there.

"Tell them thanks, Thunderhead." Bartlett grunts. "Alright, you lot, form up. Blaze, you might want to ditch now, just so you don't end up bailing out in the ocean later."

"I'll take this one back to the base." Blaze replies firmly. "He deserves that much."

"Aren't you the odd one." Chopper grins. "I like that, man."

"When we get back you gotta offload your nosecam video, Blaze." Cactus says with rising excitement. "I gotta see that fight in first person."

"Well, be prepared to see a lot of nothing." Blaze laughs. "Because that's exactly what was happening the entire time."

…

The people waiting for their flights in the Bell City Airport were understandably annoyed when the announcers told them that their flights were delayed until further notice, and were in even worse spirits when many of them noticed the heavily damaged F-5E Tiger land precariously, followed by what looked like an entire military detachment.

(Also understandably, some of the kids in the area were quite excited about the whole ordeal).

The people then heard the message: Yuktobania declared war, and, like everyone, most of them were shocked and confused.

There wasn't a declaration of complaints, no casus of belli, so why did Yuktobania declare a war?

A day later, their shock and confusion would multiply as their neighbors Belka, Lesath, and Sapin simultaneously declared war on Osea and mounted their own invasions at almost precisely the same time.

Though few people understood, everyone knew: it was the beginning of the Strangereal World War.

.

.

.

{ === + === }

Author Notes: I've been wanting to do this one for a while.

So, let's compare notes.

-This battle is pretty much the introduction scene of Ace 5 but played out with named people participating, obviously with Blaze among them.

-Cactus is a generic NPC who will never be mentioned again.

-The Rigel Squadron is using their Varcolac colors because they're easier to identify that way.

-Antares is on Rigel's side since Rigel has no reason to defect.

-Bell City is made up for this fic because it was convenient, and I felt like making up an entirely new city made more sense than having Blaze fly his nearly dead plane back to an established location.


	2. Stage 2 - Erusea

{ === + === }

…

Several days after the initial declarations of war between Osea and its neighboring states (plus one overseas powerhouse) many other nations found it a good time to declare war with each other, given that the two major nations in Strangereal are now engaged and had no attention to spare to their lesser conflicts.

One of those said conflicts involved the Federal Republic of Erusea (Erusea) and the Federation of Central Usea (FCU) on the Usean continent. Although the FCU had long standing alliances with other nations on the Usean continent, the suddenly and inexplicable change in international relations (read: war everywhere) made their ruling political bodies anxious and unwilling to make sudden moves that would bring war into their countries.

Seizing upon this opportunity, Erusea had declared for San Salvacion, a free city-state between the FCU and Erusean border. The FCU, knowing that this invasion would cause Erusea to arrive on their proverbial doorstep (and fearing continued aggression by Erusea if left unchecked), declared a guarantee of San Salvacion. However, the FCU was worryingly alone.

Both nations amassed their forces on the borders of San Salvacion, who really just wanted this whole thing to blow over but had no say in the issue.

…

[FCU Frontline base, 1400]

…

Two nameless NPC pilots are busy playing chess next to their F-16C Fighting Falcons, obviously breaking a regulation (or ten) in the process.

"It's a good thing war hasn't broken out yet." Pilot A says sarcastically.

"I know." Pilot B plays along. "Or we'd have to deploy again."

"Think the captain's over it yet?" Pilot A asks. "We got knocked around pretty hard yesterday and he didn't seem too happy about it."

"Erusea's just poking us right now, and we're hitting back as hard as we get." Pilot B shrugs. "The Captain'll be alright."

Pilot A taps his cheek in thought. "You think? Check." He leans back after moving his piece. "Our logistics on the border was better, so we got more fighters in the air than before, but we're not exactly coming out of a fight smelling like roses every single time."

"It just means Erusea has better pilots than we do. Ah, shit." Pilot B realizes he had accidentally lost his queen. "When we get AWACS support things will turn around."

"Thaank you." Pilot A says with a grin and takes the queen. "I don't think it's gonna be that simple. Erusea's bigger than us, and if nobody around us wants to hop into this fight we're not going to win it."

"Yeah." Pilot B sighs. "So, really, when's the other shoe gonna drop?"

"It's dropping right now." Their captain said over their heads, making both of them jump. "What are you two doing?"

"We're, uh…" Pilot A grins sheepishly. "On Standby?"

"Very active standby." Pilot B adds.

The Captain just sighs. "Get your asses to the briefing room. The new pilots are here."

"Yes ma'am." Pilot B salutes sharply and jumps to his feet.

"God dammit." Pilot A was stuck cleaning up after the upturned board.

…

[Briefing Room]

…

"Yay. Nuggets." Pilot A sighs as soon as he laid eyes upon the new pilots.

"God forbid we have to babysit." Pilot B sighs. "Captain, with all due respect, why aren't they sending more experienced pilots into our group?"

The captain gave him a dirty look. "Aren't you a smart mouth? These guys are as good if not better than you are."

Pilot B eyed one of the lankier newcomers warily. "I find that hard to believe."

"And I find a lot of things about you hard to believe." The captain responds flatly. "Your graduation at the top of the academy among them."

"Touché." Pilot B grins. "Sorry ma'am, newcomers."

"Don't mind him." The captain sighs to the two new pilots. "He talks too much for his own good."

"Well, our poor manners aside," Pilot A salutes the two newcomers. "Welcome to the Sprite Squadron. We're here as the front line pilots against Erusea, so you must have skill to be assigned here."

"Yes, sir." The lankier pilot replies readily. The stockier pilot simply nods.

"Well, at least you're confident." Pilot A replies approvingly. "Confidence is key up there."

"The two of you will be Sprites 5 and 6 when we go up." The captain takes control again. "I expect the two of you to work with each other for your first missions."

The two new pilots salute.

…

[Next Day, 0800]

…

A flight of six F-16C Fighting Falcons soared through San Salvacion airspace at an respectable altitude of 6000 feet.

"The two of you show up and then Erusea decides to mount a serious attack." Pilot A laughs. "You guys are like the anti-rabbit's foot."

"Wouldn't that just make us the rabbit?" Ribbon sighs.

"I guess it would." Pilot A agrees, still in a good mood. "How many are we up against, captain?"

"San Salvacion's radar network says we have about thirty fighters in our area." The captain replies. "It's going to be a pretty big furball, boys, so have your big boy pants on."

Pilot B's reply was a breezy "Acknowledged" along with the rest of squadron.

…

"Tally ho." Sprite Captain says. "Flight of four Fishbeds at our 11."

"Oh good, numerical advantage." Pilot A (Sprite 3) says cheerily. "Did they see us yet?"

"It looks like they're establishing control over Route 20." Pilot B (Sprite 4) notes. "Must be prepping for a ground invasion force."

"Not much point holding a highway if nobody rides it, though." Sprite 3 says with a cursory check of his fuel. "What's the call, boss?"

"We'll engage." Sprite Leader says firmly. "One shot each, children."

"Roger." Sprite 3 arms one XMAA. Sprites 4 through 6 did the same.

The Mig21bis Fishbeds heard the lock alarms in their cockpits, divided, then turned tail and ran.

"What the…" Sprite 3 frowns. "That's a first. Usually they're pretty gung-ho about this whole thing."

Sprite 4 was a bit more clear-eyed. "There are thirty other planes in the air. My money's on them trying to lure us in."

"No doubt about that." The captain mutters, then switches channels. "AWACS, where are the enemy flights closest to our position?"

"Not accounting for the one that's running away, you have another group of Fishbeds to your 9 o'clock." The AWACS operator replied. "Six aircraft."

"And if we followed them, they'd be on our six when we engage…" The captain reasoned. "Alright, good enough. Leave them be and continue our patrol."

"Bah." Sprite 3 says but fell back in line. "Acknowledged. Don't tell me they came all this way just to sightsee."

"Let's hope that's what they're doing." Sprite 4 corrects him.

…

And so this continued for another week, with Erusea and the FCU skirmishing over the skies of San Salvacion and scoring very few kills on either side while both sides moved ground forces to position.

Then there was a problem. Namely, San Salvacion refused to let FCU land forces enter and reinforce the city. Obviously, Erusea had no such problem (or rather, they were refused entry as well but they didn't feel like listening).

Suffice to say that the FCU military was not happy with this arrangement.

"They don't seem to want us to protect their independence." Sprite 3 grumbles.

Again, Sprite 4 was the cool-headed one. "They don't want us entrenched because Erusea's been shipping in a million Intruders and Frogfoots."

"Would it be Frogfoots or Frogfeet?" Sprite 3 needed to ask.

4 ignored him. "If I were them I'd probably ask for something similar."

"Yeah, I guess." 3 nods. "So what attackers do we have?"

"Mirages, F-2As, and a handful of A-10s." 4 ticks off each fighter type on his finger. "I think they're also sending in Tornados, but I don't know when they'll get here."

"FCU's not really in a state for war, huh?" 3 stretches. "Not that I'm surprised."

"Blame Aker in the south, I guess." 4 shakes his head. "They've always handled FCU's ground attack roles in joint operations."

"Pity they're not doing anything now." 3 stands up. "Yo! Six!"

Sprite 6 was busy with helping the mechanics doing maintenance on the F-16C…though to be honest the crew is doing almost all of said work.

"Busybody." 3 mutters good-naturedly then raises his voice again. "How do you feel about conducting ground attack missions?"

"It would be easier than shooting things that move." Sprite 6 replies with disinterest.

"Our rookies are no fun." 4 pats 3 reassuringly on the shoulder as 3 feigns emotional devastation. "You should know that by now."

…

[Six days later, Sky over Old San Salvacion, 1600]

…

"Guys?" Sprite 3 says cautiously. "Look to our 9 o'clock."

Sprite 6 glances over the F-16C's wing but sees nothing of interest.

Sprite 4 obediently checks his radar. "Eruseans…a lot of Eruseans. My radar isn't broken, right?"

"No, you're seeing the same thing we are." Sprite 2 replies. "We got at least a hundred Erusean aircraft headed straight for us. What's the call, captain?"

"AWACS, this is Sprite Leader." Their captain reports. "We have hostiles on radar approaching fast, please advise."

"Sprite Leader, this is SkyEye." An operator on the supporting aircraft replied. "We've detected the incoming enemy aircraft as well. Air command has scrambled fighters and they will be in place shortly. Defend your positions until they arrive."

"Defend our positions?" Sprite Leader was indignant. "We're outnumbered 20 to 1 here!"

"We're well aware." SkyEye replies apologetically. "But Erusea's making a major push and we cannot give up ground here."

"Time to man up, I guess." Sprite 3 sighs. "Arming XMAAs. If they're going to dance then it's the least we can do to oblige them."

"Admirable, but we don't exactly have a full tank here." Sprite 4 points out, though he arms his XMAAs all the same. "We can hold for fifteen minutes, tops."

"Then hold for that long." The captain snaps. "All aircraft engage; fight defensively and don't overextend yourselves." She listens for her XMAAs to report locks. "Fox three!"

She and her flight of F-16Cs release their salvo of XMAAs.

"They're not sitting around either." Sprite 3 mutters as his warning alarms go off. "Incoming!"

An Erusean detachment of eight F-18A Hornets and eight F-16C Vipers split from the main force and engaged the FCU F-16C Fighting Falcons with a salvo of twelve XMAAs.

The FCU missiles scored 4 kills out of 24 missiles fired, all Tornados.

The Erusean counterattack whiffed every last shot.

"Yeah! Eat it, suckers!" Sprite 3 celebrates as the missiles following him lose their lock.

"Watch the skyline." Sprite 4 warns him. Their evasive maneuvers cost them altitude, allowing the Eruseans to dive down onto the Sprite squadron.

"Yeah, I see it." Sprite 3 arms his second set of XMAAs and noses up to meet the attackers. "Come get some!"

The threat of XMAAs forces the Eruseans to break off into their two groups, allowing the Sprite squadron to climb and engage at a more favorable level.

Sprite 3 immediately found a lock on a lazy Hornet and tore into its engines with a missile.

"These guys aren't much." Sprite 4 laughs, taking down another Hornet.

"Not much, yes." Sprite 1 turns along with her Viper quarry and strafe it with bullets. "But watch their numbers."

"Yeah." Sprite 3 hears a lock warning. "Hornet on my ass. Get it off." He turns hard right and lures the Hornets into position for Sprite 4.

"Red 2, you're maneuvering into their trap." The Erusean pilot doing the chasing hears through his own radio. "Break."

Sprite 4 locks onto the Hornet behind Sprite 3 for a brief moment and almost fires a missile, but the Hornet suddenly brakes and ascends. 4 sent a few bullets chasing after it but scored no hits.

"Looks like the honeymoon is over." Sprite 4 stays on course to ensure that Sprite 3's tail remained clear. "We're actually going to have to _try._ "

…

When the reinforcing fighters arrived on scene to engage the main force, the Sprite team had made three more kill between the six of them and was collectively bingo fuel.

"Sprite Leader here, glad you guys got here on time." Sprite One sighs as she leads her flight back to their airfield. "The catwalk's all yours, Omega."

"Omega Leader copies." Omega 1 replies steadily. "Thank you for keeping the field for us."

"Whew!" Sprite 3 engages his autopilot. "I'm glad they got here when they did. I'm bingo fuel."

"We're all bingo, dude." Sprite 4 laughs. "2 to 1 fighting is horrid."

"And we're gonna have to go in again when we get resupplied, right?" Sprite 3 groans. "Hey, 5 and 6. How are you guys doing?"

"Could be worse." Sprite 5 says blandly, netting an eyeroll and slight shake of the head from 3.

The other answer was equally as bland. "Sprite 6, no complaints here."

"I swear, the two of you need hobbies or something." Sprite 4 laughs as 3 sighs harder. "We all need to go out for a drink when we're done here. The two of you need to be properly integrated into the group."

"Or maybe it's because the two of you are hogging all the bandwidth." Sprite 2 says like a disapproving father.

Sprite 1 laughs at that. "Since when have they _not_ hogged bandwidth?"

"The bandwidth was made for guys like us, lead." Sprite 3 says dramatically. "We're meant for the big stage."

"Riiight." Sprite 1's sarcasm could not be more overt. "The stage just can't wait for a man like you."

"You know it." Sprite 3 rolls his aircraft for show. "The only way it can be improved is if the two of us take it at the same time."

"The 'us' or the 'you'?" 4 asks inquisitively.

"Uh…" 3 was about as confused as the rest of the squadron. "Yes."

"Alright, alright. Pack it in, gentlemen." Sprite 1 had enough fun. "We're coming into heavy air traffic. I don't want to see any of you go down in flames crashing into our own guys because you were too busy shooting your mouths."

"Yes, boss." Sprite 3 verbally salutes.

…

30 minutes later, the Sprite team was landed and rearming. The pilots were sent to the officer lounge for forced relaxation (they would have rather just sat in their cockpits, but the crew chief was very insistent).

Another 30 minutes later, the Sprite team, now forcibly refreshed, boarded their Fighting Falcons again and took into the air.

"I have to admit, being told to use the bathroom was a new experience." Sprite 2 mutters.

"Were you never a child or something?" Sprite 3 wonders.

"I was a very brilliant child." Sprite 2 replies with the hint of a laugh. "So I can imagine not needing to be told to do simple tasks."

3 sighs as 4 laughs at him. "Well I walked into that one." He replies good-naturedly. "So, lead: Where are we headed to now?"

"Looks like the Eruseans are trying to fly some bombers over San Salvacion Air Force Base." Sprite 1 replies after conferring with the AWACS. "We're headed that way."

"Oh, we're going bear hunting?" Sprite 4 cracks his knuckles. "Sounds like it's gonna be a good time."

"Going by the sounds of it, the bombers themselves shouldn't be a problem." Sprite 1 agrees. "They also have some mercenaries as escorts…bet you anything this is just a long shot on Erusea's part."

"Mercs?" Sprite 3 raises an eyebrow. "We're the ones with the smaller airforce here. Shouldn't we be the ones using mercs?"

"Not if they get to them first, I guess." Sprite 2 replies. "What the…I'm not seeing things, right?"

"You're not." Sprite 1 checks her targeting radar. "Tally ho, three fighters in our face."

"In our face, you say?" Sprite 3 stares at the horizon. "How big is our face? I don't see them."

"Three fighters at our XMAA range…looks like they're the eager ones, meeting us this far out." Sprite 1 arms three XMAAs. "Engage after I fire."

"Copy."

…

While the Sprite squadron was ready to kick ass and take names, the incoming Mercenary Squadron was on lookout for enemies. They had seen the Sprite squadron coming in at approximately the same time the Sprites saw them, and were currently turning to engage.

"See? I told you we'd find them if we came out this far." The squadron leader says confidently.

"Well, that's great, but…" his wingman sighs. "They're gonna be shooting at us, because we can't hit back." Though their aircraft, the Mig-21-93, were capable of carrying SAAMs (just 2 of them) they had deigned to use those slots for drop tanks instead to increase their flight time.

"We just need to get closer than this." The third pilot says in a noncommittal tone. "Our Migs are better at knife range anyways."

"We're not flying at them so we can dodge better." The leader reminds him. "3, send a message to the others and tell them to converge. We're being engaged, after all."

"Right, right…" the third pilot sighs softly. "Guys? This is Raven 3, we're engaged with enemy aircraft, requesting assistance."

"Better come quick, too." Raven Leader said to himself as his lock warning sounded. "Or there won't be any for you guys to shoot."

…

"Sprite Leader, this is SkyEye. Enemy aircraft are converging on your position, don't get overwhelmed."

"Thanks for the heads-up." Sprite 1 replies. "How many?"

"Eight aircraft…no, ten; two more just entered the combat area."

"Ten, huh?" Sprite 3 breaks from formation to engage Raven 3. "Enough for all of us to get a few kills. Yo! Rookies!"

"Yes, sir?" Sprite 5 replies dutifully.

"This is your chance to shine!" Sprite 3 laughs.

"Roger that, sir." Sprite 5 replies, clearly not sharing the sentiment. "6, We're going in after the right one. Back me up."

"Ok." Sprite 6 nods.

…

The six Sprite aircraft divided into three pairs, and each pair went after one Raven aircraft.

The difference in skill became immediately apparent.

Sprite 1 hard locked onto Raven 1 after two turns and sent him away smoking with a stream of bullets.

Sprites 3 and 4 each locked onto Raven 2 and turned his aircraft into a ball of fire as he tried to dive out of the way.

Sprites 5 and 6 boxed the last Mig in but were unable to get a lock. They chased the pilot until a poor maneuver caused the fighter to slam into the ground.

…

"That's all she wrote for these guys." Sprite 3 laughs. "Now then, how long 'til the new guys get here?"

"ETA 1 minute." Sprite leader replies. "Reform and prepare to engage; remember to save some for the bombers."

…

The Erusean side was having a less than nominal day. Despite having more aircraft, Erusea was unable to maintain air superiority against their enemies, and the ground forces sent suffered for it. Since the beginning of the operation, the Erusean ground forces were still stuck at the edge of Old San Salvacion and were unable to proceed further.

Being shelled by San Salvacion Artillery (and yes, San Salvacion did have its own army) didn't help them any.

At the moment, the ground forces were hastily scrambling away from incoming San Salvacion aircraft. Just a minute ago, some Erusean aerial squadrons disengaged to return and rearm, and this opening in the air cover was immediately plugged in by FCU pilots, allowing San Salvacion Attackers to reach the Erusean tanks.

 _Ace combat is not tank combat, so assume these are German Leopard 2A5s or something._

"Back up! Backup backup backup!" A tank commander yelled to his driver as the tank attempted to hide between two houses. A bomb dropped from the F-2A overhead stopped him dead.

"What the hell is our air cover doing?!" The driver of a nearby SAM vehicle snarls. "Shoot them down already!"

 _Disclaimer: we don't know how this works and are thus guessing._

The gunner locks onto the incoming F-2 and fires a missile as soon as he hears the lock tone in his ear.

Given the F-2 was in the process of zooming past the vehicle while moving very fast, the missile traced for a small while and then lost its lock. All of Usea had problems with missiles being not very accurate, and this was no exception.

"The angle was bad." The gunner mutters. "Arming missile." He re-aims the SAM turret to lock onto the F-2A again, but the aircraft placed a tall building between it and the Roland, and the lock was lost.

"Damn." The vehicle commander growls. "To no surprise, they're flying circles around us."

"If only our air support was any good." The driver gives a worrying glance to the smoking pile of metal that used to be a tank. "What the hell are they doing?"

"What they're not doing is covering our heads." The commander saw another aircraft on radar. "Incoming at 135, take it down now!"

The SAM vehicle lurches forward to get a clearer shot at the Su-25 Frogfoot in its sight and fires a missile before fire from a San Salvacion Irregular (read: guy with an RPG) destroyed it.

"Didn't we clear these houses already?" The Erusean Unit Commander, more experienced in open terrain combat than urban, asks exasperatedly. "Send some infantry units through those houses and make sure they're clear."

"I think I see a command vehicle." The pilot of the Su-25 Frogfoot says after finishing his evasive action. He had seen the Commander APC hidden between some small houses. "Taking it out."

"Watch for triple A." His copilot warns. "3 o'clock."

The Frogfoot banks and drops altitude some more. The AA Gun emplacement guarding the command vehicle fired a few shots into the tree line and did little more than to warn the command vehicle about the incoming aerial threat.

Not in the mood to die a flashy but otherwise useless death, the Erusean commander ordered his tank to confirm the Frogfoot's position and move around the houses so as to use them as cover against the aerial attack.

It worked for two minutes, and then the Frogfoot found a good angle of attack against the vehicle.

As the fighter went into its attack run, however, the copilot noticed a blip on their radar.

"There's a fighter coming in." He warns. "It's a fast one."

The pilot doesn't stray from his attack path. "Well, that means we're screwed no matter how we hack it, so let's take this guy down and bail out later."

"You're such an optimist." His copilot sighs. "AWACS, this is Devil 2. We're in trouble."

"AWACS HawkEye copies, diverting Rapier team to your position."

The Frogfoot dutifully dropped a guided penetration bomb on the command tank's top and blew it to bits.

"Alright, now where's our funeral?" The pilot looks around, trying to confirm the physical position of the blip on his radar while flying evasively but randomly.

"He should be behind us?" The copilot looks around as well. "But I don't see him-"

The Frogfoot then suffered a direct hit to its engines, spun out of control, and crashed into a house.

"Target down." Reported the pilot of the fighter. "We were unable to rescue the commander, however."

"Unfortunate." The Theatre Commander paid it little attention. "Aquila Squadron, continue your primary mission."

"Yes sir." The squadron leader acknowledges. "What should we do next, captain?"

"Four enemy Hornets are bearing down upon us." His wingman replies. "Climb and destroy."

…

"Hey, it's a red baron." Rapier 1 notes with surprise. "A red baron with a souped up Flanker, too. All aircraft open fire, we'll take him down now."

Rapier 2 took an extra-long look at the incoming aircrafts. "Yellow Wingtips, huh? I can't say I agree with their tastes."

"How they look doesn't matter." Rapier 1 replies. "We just need to take them down. Rapier squadron, attack!"

The Rapier squadron, the team of four Hornets, dove onto the Yellow Terminators and fired their normal missiles.

The Yellow Squadron scattered, except for Yellow 13, who weaved through the missiles and continued to climb, as if challenging the Hornets to a joust.

"Red Baron indeed." Rapier 4 grins, noting that the Terminator was headed directly towards him.

The two aircraft open fire with their guns at the same time, but Yellow 13 maneuvered via a roll. Rapier 4 sustained a cockpit hit that killed him instantly while Yellow 13's Terminator sustained a few hits to its tail fin.

"Shit! 4!" Rapier 1 yells as the two sides passed each other.

Yellow 13, who had been braking while shooting, stalled in midair and immediately dropped back down after the Rapier Hornets.

The Rapier team, a little too worried about a lost wingman and unused to dealing with a supermaneuverable fighter, pulled level to the ground and moved to turn with Yellow 13 sitting right behind them.

Yellow 13 armed 3 of his XLAAs and fired before the Rapier team could react to what was going on. Seconds later, three new fireballs scattered across the ground.

"Nice shot, captain!" Yellow 1 cheers as the squadron reforms and climbs back up to altitude. "That makes you the first Ace of Erusea!"

"The first of many." Yellow 13 replied in a level tone. "Now don't get distracted, we still have work to do."

…

[5 Minutes Later]

…

"The main force is what?"

Sprite 1 was momentarily distracted from the last mercenary (a Rafale M) she was chasing and let it get away from her long enough for Sprite 2 to snag the kill instead.

"SkyEye, repeat." Sprite 1 demands.

"The main force is being pushed back." SkyEye repeats, his voice showing his own doubt. "The cause is apparently a flight of new enemy fighters."

"Fighters don't win wars, pilots do." Sprite 1 replies instantly. "Do we know who's behind the stick?"

"Unknown." SkyEye says. "But there's one extremely skilled pilot in the enemy squadron. He's downed 9 aircraft already."

"Yikes." Sprite 3 mutters. "Sounds like he's gonna be bad news for us."

"Roger that." Sprite 1 sighs. "Thanks for the heads up, SkyEye. Squadron: we'll handle the remaining bombers and then head straight home."

Sprite 4's eyebrows went up. "That's a surprise." He says. "I thought you'd tell us to attack this new Ace of theirs."

"Believe me, I want to." Sprite 1 growls. "But keeping San Salvacion clear comes first."

"The lady has spoken." Sprite 3 grins. "Tally ho!"

The second to last batch of bombers, a wing of 4 Tu-95 Bears, entered into their combat area.

"All the mercs are down, too. Sprites 5 and 6, take the shots." Sprite 4 says.

"Not all." Sprite 3 reminds him. "The two stragglers are going to be on us at any second."

Sprites 5 and 6 was worried, but they did as they were told and fired their remaining two XMAAs at the Bears, splashing them without incident.

"That's all of them." Sprite 1 grins despite herself. "How do you like that, you damn Eruseans?"

"Mercs entering combat area." Sprite 2 warns. "They're escorting two more Bears."

"They're fashionably late." Sprite 3 laughs. "Props to them for waiting. We're almost all out of ammo here."

"They're pretty full of themselves, too." Sprite 4 scowls upon seeing paint schemes on the enemy's F-15C Eagles.

Sprite 6 saw the two incoming aircraft, took note of their paintjobs, and then instinctively felt a chill that caused a shudder.

…

On the other side, the two pilots saw the flight of six F-16C Fighting Falcons, and as their eyes checked the status of each one, they felt a slight chill down their spines as well.

"What was that…?" The pilot of the lead aircraft, an Eagle with a single red wing, murmurs.

"Was that warning…?" The pilot of the supporting aircraft, an Eagle with a pair of dark blue wings, wonders. "Galm 1?"

"If it's not immediately pertinent to our mission, then don't worry about it." The first pilot replies breezily. "Sorry. I know we're a provisional squadron formed because we're both mercenaries, but that doesn't mean we're gonna be friends, alright?"

"Understood." The second pilot sighs. "I'll follow your lead, Galm 1."

"It's a tough business, Galm 2." The first pilot reassures him. "So friends come and go pretty quickly…no hard feelings."

…

"They're coming for us." Sprite 1 warns. "Split and engage. Rookies, go after the bombers."

Sprite team again divided into three teams of two, with Sprites 1 and 2 engaging the red winged aircraft and Sprites 3 and 4 engaging the near-black winged aircraft.

To everyone's surprise, the two mercenaries blew past the four incoming Falcons and homed in exclusively on the rookies.

"5 and 6, Break off!" Sprite 1 orders. "Break now!"

Sprite 5 froze, and a burst of gunfire from Blue Wing struck his aircraft, tearing off a wing. The rest of the aircraft spiraled into the ground.

Sprite 6 did manage to break away, but still took a few bullets to the fuselage.

"Sprite 6! Are you alright?!" Sprite 3 asks while re-engaging Blue Wing.

"I'll live." Ribbon replies through gritted teeth and watched Sprites 3 and 4 chase after the Blue Wing.

After one turn, Blue Wing forced 3 and 4 to overshoot with a sharp barrel roll.

"He knows his aircraft very well." 4 can't help but complement. "Split!"

The two Falcons divided again.

"Good, but not good enough!" the Red Wing pilot, while still evading a lock from Sprites 1 and 2 behind him, found an intersecting flight path with Sprite 3 and fired.

Sprite 4, shocked at the sudden interception of 3, slowed for a brief second. That brief second allowed the Blue Wing to achieve a hard lock at way less than evasive range.

"Sprite 4 is down. 3, are you alive?" Sprite 2 asks as calmly as he could manage. His answer came in the form of Sprite 3's Falcon not levelling itself, losing altitude, and plowing into a pond. "Damn. Lead, we're in trouble."

"I can see that!" Sprite 1 snarls, straining against her dampeners to stay on the Red Wings' tail. "These bastards are _not_ going to get away with this!"

"6, take out that bomber then get out of here." Sprite 2 orders. "These two are way too skilled."

Sprite 6 was in shock.

The Red Wing had, in the brief moment that it took Sprite 2 to speak, baited Sprite 1 to follow at gun range. Sprite 1 gladly obliged and fired her guns, only for the Red Wing to execute a Kulbit at a speed and angle that must be murder on the plane's airframe. Sprite 1 as a result overshot badly while smoking.

Red Wing had shot and seriously damaged her aircraft while executing its Kulbit.

Sprite 2, seeing this, fired at the Red Wing after barely attaining a lock. In response, the Blue Wing strafed his Falcon and detonated the engine with a lucky shot.

"Son of a…" Sprite 1 snarls as Sprite 2 attempts to bail out. "Full afterburners, we're running!"

"Whew." The Red Wing Pilot breathes. "These guys were a cut above normal…Galm Two, what are you doing?"

The Blue Wing aircraft followed the crippled body of Sprite 2's Falcon and put a bullet into the cockpit.

"Galm Two, that's far enough." Red Wing Pilot warns. "We do not fire at downed pilots."

"We're mercenaries, Galm One." Blue Wing Pilot says coldly. "Results are everything." He locked onto the two fleeing aircraft with two QAAMs and fired.

 _Results are…_ The Red Wing pilot seethes. _As a mercenary, he's right. As a knight…_

Sprite 1, having nowhere near the mobility necessary to dodge a QAAM aimed at her injured aircraft, ejected before the missile hit.

Sprite 6, now supremely angry and running on adrenaline, turned a full 180 and aimed straight back at the Blue Wing aircraft.

"What are you doing?" The Red Wing Pilot said to himself. "Get out of here already. You've lost."

The Blue Wing Pilot took up the challenge and hit his afterburners. He then armed his third QAAM and fired at close range.

The Falcon fired its last missile back and inverted for a short dive. By chance, the QAAM entered the smoke trail of the Falcon's missile and momentarily lost maneuvering ability (a timespan of milliseconds). Those milliseconds were enough for the missile to slightly overshoot the Falcon and slam harmlessly into the ground.

The Blue Wing Pilot's need for perfection hurt him, as his QAAMs had their proximity fuses set to be as short as possible to ensure a sure kill on the target, and his last shot was only slightly outside of that range.

 _Suddenly he's gotten good._ Red Wing thought while debating whether to join in on the fight or not. _Sorry, pilot…but it's a job for us._ He opted to dive in as well.

The Blue Wing pilot, after four turns, managed to land itself behind the Falcon and was perforating its left wing with volleys of gunfire.

"Seeing you on my ass is annoying!" Sprite 6 snarls and executes a barrel roll, which the Blue Wing Fighter follows perfectly while firing more bullets. "Get out!"

The Blue Wing Pilot notices a flare being released into his field of view and dips slightly to avoid it.

The slight dip allowed Sprite 6 to brake and force the Blue Wing Pilot to overshoot. True to their skill difference, the distance between the two after the position switch could be measured in tens of feet.

Knowing that the fighter out front was liable to jink and evade at any time, Sprite 6 simply opted to pull up and fire and leave it to luck.

The Blue Wing pilot felt his aircraft shake slightly as the Falcon finished its Immelman turn plus guns (with afterburners on the whole way) and escaped from the combat area.

"Galm Two. Cipher. What's your status?" Red Wing asks.

Cipher smiled slightly. When a mercenary uses a TAC name, it's the sign that their working relationship won't immediately end in a ball of fire. "One of my engines is acting funny, but I'll live, Pixy."

"Looks like the FCU has some talent after all." Pixy stares at the progressively smaller dot that is the retreating Falcon. "Whoever that was, he gave you a run for your money."

"If that's the case, I wonder why he ran away?" Cipher wonders. "Come back. Let's fight it out until there's only one of us standing." He half-says, half-shouts.

Pixy shakes his head. "You're too bloodthirsty, Cipher."

"Nothing wrong with being bloodthirsty when blood is how we make our money, Pixy."

 _So you think._ Pixy frowns. "Hey Cipher. Feel like taking the lead next time?"

…

"Sprite 6, this is SkyEye can you hear me? Sprite 6?"

"I-I hear you, AWACS. Go ahead." Sprite 6 replies while suppressing some uncontrollable shaking.

"Sprite 6, I'm sorry to say that the enemy bombers reached the air field." SkyEye said. "The enemy's sending in more aircraft as well. You're hereby given new orders: return to Sandburg Airfield."

 _Sandburg…that's further back than our current airfield._ "Does that mean we're abandoning the operation?" 6 growls, obviously not happy.

"Unfortunately, yes. The sudden loss of FCU aerial cover cowed the San Salvacion government, and they're surrendering."

Upon hearing that, 6 slammed a fist onto the fuselage.

SkyEye felt it through the radio. "I feel the same way. We needs time to regroup…we've lost too many good pilots today."

6 toggled off the radio and screamed at nobody in particular. A long, drawn out scream that, when it finally ended, gave way to a new, kind-of-pleasant sense of focus.

…

…

"Oy, that pilot…" SkyEye overheard at the threshold to the officer lounge. He stopped to see who the speakers were talking about.

It was Sprite 6, sitting alone and deep in thought.

The two speakers, two reasonably veteran FCU pilots, were leaning against a wall and…gossiping, if SkyEye were to describe it politely, in low tones.

"That's the remaining member of the Sprite team, right?" NPC Pilot A murmurs.

"Yeah. Everybody else in the team's dead." NPC Pilot B replies with a shake of his head. "So the only one left is the rookie."

"Jesus." NPC Pilot A breathes. "Can you imagine being promoted to flight leader like that?"

"I don't think anybody wants to be promoted like that." NPC Pilot B nods. "I'd rather be reforming Rapier and Omega squadrons. At least those two don't have the same length of service."

"No kidding. Who _was_ that guy?" NPC Pilot A's anger crept into his voice. "He just shows up in a Flanker with Canards and beats us all senseless. That's just stupid!"

"The guys are calling it a Terminator." Pilot B laughs sadly. "But damn does it make sense."

"A lot of flights are gonna need to be reformed after this." Pilot A takes a swig out of his drink. "I'll tell you what. I would rather lead a dead squadron than be regrouped into one with a rookie survivor."

"Better chances of victory?" Pilot B asks with a sly grin.

"A squadron with a live rookie and dead veterans is bad luck." Pilot A replies. "You know that."

Pilot B sounded just a little bit surprised. "It's just a dumb superstition."

Pilot A frowns and thumps B on the chest. "Says the guy that spins his lucky coin three times before taking off. Nothing against the rookie, of course, but I'm pretty sure Sprite's gonna be a Flight of One from now on."

…

And he was right. A week later, on the next operation—to protect the Sandburg Airforce Base against Erusean A-6 Intruders—Sprite 6 went up alone, along with rebuilt (and fully manned) Rapier and Omega squadrons.

"That's just unfair." SkyEye sighs.

"What is?" HawkEye leans over. "Oh, Sprite?"

"Yeah."

"I don't blame the pilots." HawkEye says sympathetically. "A lot of them get superstitious after something bad happens, and I think we can all agree that San Salvacion was pretty high on the list of bad things."

"Yeah. Still…" SkyEye frowns at the lone F-16C flying among full squadrons. "We're really just going to let this happen, aren't we?"

"I'm willing to bet that if you order one of the fighters to cover for Sprite 6, they won't bother to get their hands dirty." HawkEye cautions him. "At least give it two more weeks."

SkyEye taps his chin and thinks quietly for a long while. "It's within our powers to change squadron designations, right?"

"Yeah, but you won't be fooling anybody." HawkEye replies.

"Good enough for me." SkyEye opens a public channel to Sprite 6, so everyone could listen in (as they must when a squadron designation was being changed).

"That must have been tough on you." SkyEye said first, as he found himself temporarily unable to think. "To have your first battle be something like that."

Ribbon's reply was calm and measured. "A battle's a battle. We don't have the luxury to pick and choose…we can only accept what we're given and move on, no matter what, no matter when."

 _No matter what, huh…?_ SkyEye found himself staring at the emblem on Sprite 6's aircraft. "Sprite 6, I'm here to give you a new squadron designation."

 _I don't think that will help much._ 6 thinks, but decided it would be better to be gracious. "Sprite 6 acknowledges, awaiting new assignment."

"Better hurry it up, SkyEye." HawkEye warns him. "We got hostiles coming in. Rapier and Omega teams, you're cleared to engage."

Sprite 6 saw as well, but knew flying into battle with a (temporarily) revoked squadron callsign was a no-go.

"I'm getting to it." SkyEye nods. "Sprite 6…"

He takes a breath.

"…Sprite 6, your callsign is now Mobius One, we will now refer to you by this name at all times."

SkyEye takes another deep breath, feeling a shudder come over him.

"Mobius One, engage."

.

.

.

{ === + === }

Author Notes:

-Sprite Team: Soo much characterization on throwaway NPCs…but yeah, I think this serves pretty well as background for Mobius One, and why he's a loner.

-Also, since I'm used to thinking of Mobius One's TAC Name as Ribbon, I have this image of him as a cute anime girl with regulation-defying ribbons. One of the many reasons why I opted to avoid using names at all for the good guys this time around...because I couldn't decide if I wanted him to be manly man or girly girl. If we end up with manly man Mobius One I'll probably use Reaper as his TAC name instead.

-This stage is Ace04's San Salvacion liberation but inverted.

-The FCU is the predecessor to (and the main member of) ISAF. ISAF's establishment occurs later on in this story.

-Fortress Intolerance is the endpoint of Ace Combat 3DS. Within the limits of this story, the only canonical event that has already occurred is the Usean Rebellion (so the events of Ace2/Ace3DS).

-Since both sides used the same aircraft, I opted to use different reporting names for them. The good guys get the Fighting Falcon and the baddies get the Viper. Where possible I'll probably end up doing the same if other aircraft has similar names…having US fighters fight against Russians all the time isn't a lot of fun.


End file.
